


"If you take off his glasses, he's yours"

by The_Honeydripper



Category: Music RPF, Rock Music RPF, Roger Taylor (Queen) (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeydripper/pseuds/The_Honeydripper
Summary: “The best way to describe Roger: ‘If you take off his glasses, he’s yours’”.





	"If you take off his glasses, he's yours"

Eternal gratitude to my amazing beta [firethatgrewsolow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firethatgrewsolow) , you’re a constant inspiration!

Originally posted [here](https://the-honeydripper.tumblr.com/post/167599531485/if-you-take-off-his-glasses-hes-yours)

This is purely a work of fiction, inspired by this quote about Roger Taylor:

   “ ** _The best way to describe Roger: ‘If you take off his glasses, he’s yours_** ’”.

**********************

   “Hahaha!!”

   “No, really! And then to top it off, Deaky broke a string just seconds after!”

I’m laughing so much my eyes are watering.

The room is a bit dim, and the sofa I’m sitting on is a lush leather job that’s insanely soft and comfortable.

The party had started at seven with some light food and lovely cocktails that has kept flowing, making everyone more relaxed and comfortable. This has, naturally, resulted in an impromptu sing-along around the grand piano.

   Fred plays and leads the merry group, while simultaneously clearly relishing holding court.

After a very loud and racy version of “Big Spender” – in which I’d busted out some of my best moves – I’ve fallen into the warm embrace of the ecru coloured sofa, while laughing and taking another sip of my Bellini.

Having finished a raucous version of “I’m in Love With My Car”, Roger joins me, hiking up his left leg, mirroring me, so we’re facing each other.

Talking about all and nothing; cars, the crazy life on tour, and, of all things, animal husbandry. (Quite how we got around to that was a mystery…)

He’s just finished a fantastic anecdote about stage mishaps, and as I wipe off tears from laughing so hard, I look up at him and say,

   “Why do you have your sunglasses on? Can you even see anything in this light?”

I carefully take hold of his glasses, on both sides, and slowly take them off. He blinks a few times to adjust to the light, and I feel like the breath has been knocked out of me. He looks directly into my eyes, and I can see his eyes slightly crinkle at the edges.

The rest of the room fades away, as I’m suddenly hyper aware that his arm is resting on the back of the sofa, just inches from me .

We’re drawn towards each other, not sure who moved first, but suddenly we’re kissing. Passionately. It feels like a dam has burst and we claw at each other, desperate to be closer, completely connected.

His strong hand makes its way into my hair, pulling me closer, as I hold on to his lapels for dear life.

We finally break apart. He keeps his eyes on mine as he gets up, pulling me with him.

As we exit the room, Freddie calls after us and plays the opening chords of “Get Down Make Love”.

Thank god it’s a big house with plenty of bedrooms! Rushing upstairs, we momentarily stop on the landing to “refuel the fire”. Tumbling into the second room on the left – clearly Roger’s as a couple of his suits hang on the wardrobe and there are drumsticks and several pairs of sunglasses strewn all over the room… I see the dark cherry wood four poster and a flock of foul thoughts race through my mind.

After having thrown the clothes lying on the bed over to the desk and nearby chair, he returns. His beautiful blue eyes are blazing with fiery passion, and we’re kissing again.

Shoving the blazer off his shoulders, he trails kisses down my jaw to my neck, as I rip his shirt apart, and relish the feel of his naked chest under my palms.

I moan in anticipation, as he smoothly glides a hand up my left thigh, and starts to slide my dress off over my head.

My nipples are so hard, they could cut glass, and when I finally feel his bare chest against mine, I let out a breath I hadn’t even realised I was holding.

Sucking one of my nipples into his warm mouth, he massages it with his tongue. This doesn’t exactly help my concentration as I try to unbuckle his belt while shockwaves shoot between my breast and core.

Just as I’ve got his trousers open, he switches breasts, making my knees buckle from the sudden change in sensations.

I’m massaging him through his pants, feeling him twitch as I circle my palm over his head.

   “Good God, woman!” He gasps in that delicious raspy voice, releasing my nipple.

Pulling my hand out of his trousers, he practically throws me on the bed, and tears off my knickers and stockings.

Climbing onto the bed – completely naked – he looks me playfully, wickedly, in the eye and slowly glides his hand down my stomach.

   Reaching my curls, he slides his hand softly over my clit a couple of times, making my breath hitch. Without warning, he plunges two finger in to the hilt, causing my back to jack knife off the bed.

I gasp for breath as he says,

   “So wet, baby… and all just for me. What a wonderful welcome.”

Just as he bites my earlobe, he finds that magic spot inside me, and I moan loudly.

   “Oh, you like that, eh? Let’s see if we can achieve that again…”

He easily finds the right spot and starts ‘bicycling’ his fingers against it. The sensation is nearly unbearably good, and just as I feel like I’m about to burst, he pulls out his fingers and hold them up to my mouth. I greedily suck them in, cleaning them arduously.

His blue eyes are nearly black with lust as he straddles me, and in one swift move embeds himself, a deep groan resonating from us both.

Placing his hands on either side of my head, he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. As he glides in, he twists his hips, making him hit that magic spot that has my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Every thrust accompanied by a twist hitting just right, and soon I’m tossing my head from side to side, clawing at his back, the sheets, anything I can get my hands on.

His sudden decrease in speed has my eyes shoot open in a mix of desperation, need and near fury. As our eyes meet, he grins wickedly, his tongue just visible between his teeth.

I’m about to say something, yell, beg, anything to make him speed up, when suddenly he slams into me again. Hard. My back is taut as a bow, a silent scream escaping my lips, as he thrusts again and again in perfect rhythm.

We soon tumble over into ecstasy, our cries dying down to deep moans. Our breaths come in deep gasps, as our hearts race. I feel his heart beating ferociously against my chest, and as my pussy convulses in the final aftershocks I can feel the blood pumping through his cock.

He pulls out with a groan and kisses me passionately before lying down next to me.

   “Just let me catch my breath,” his voice is even raspier than usual, “and I’ll show you why they call it being rogered senseless.”


End file.
